


How To Crack A Safe Without Even Trying

by TheGrandR



Series: Let's Go Steal A... [1]
Category: Leverage, The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, M/M, Meet-Ugly, grifter!Nicky, safecracker!Joe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26920120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGrandR/pseuds/TheGrandR
Summary: It was the perfect plan; get in dressed as a waiter, swipe a security badge, take the private elevator to the top floor, crack the safe (a Worthington 1000, tricky but nothing he hadn’t done a million times before), grab the files, and get the fuck out, hopefully in the elevator but he had four other backup plans in case that wasn’t an option.What Joe hadn’t planned on, was the goddamned heir to some import/export company monopolizing his time and attention.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Let's Go Steal A... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964170
Comments: 17
Kudos: 191





	How To Crack A Safe Without Even Trying

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching Leverage (again) the other day when I started imagining how hilarious it would be if Nicky and Joe were rival thieves and things just snowballed from there. These two have just inundated me with inspiration and I hate them. I have at least 3 other fics in the works and never in my life have I wanted to write so many different stories all at once.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It was the perfect plan; get in dressed as a waiter, swipe a security badge, take the private elevator to the 16th floor, crack the safe (a Worthington 1000, tricky but nothing he hadn’t done a million times before), grab the files, and get the fuck out, hopefully in the elevator but he had four other backup plans in case that wasn’t an option.

What Joe hadn’t planned on, was the goddamned heir to some import/export company monopolizing his time and attention.

The man, Fabrizio ‘Call me Fabio’ Tucci, was the most spoiled, arrogant, and infuriating human being he’d ever had the displeasure of being in the same room with, and Joe had pickpocketed every attendant of the 2016 RNC (The haul had ended up being a lot less than he’d expected, the cheap bastards).

“Carl! _Scusi_ , Carl!” Fucking nametags. He hated when catering companies made their staff wear nametags. Closing his eyes and taking a deep, fortifying breath, Joe turned around, fake smile plastered on his face, and approached the smug looking Italian man. 

“How can I help you, sir?”

Fabio frowned playfully, leaning against the bar like he was some kind of GQ model or something. And that was the most aggravating thing about the man- he was the most devastatingly gorgeous person Joe had ever seen. Dressed in a bright purple suit with an orange shirt underneath, he was easily the most flamboyantly dressed person in attendance, from his suit down to the penguin printed socks peeking out of brown brogues. The whole thing should have looked ridiculous, and on anyone else Joe suspected it would have, but on fucking Fabio? He looked like he’d just stepped off a damn runway.

“Carl, _per favore_ , could you bring me a glass of that wonderful champagne our host is serving here tonight?” He batted his stupid, dinner plate sized eyes at him, and it took everything Joe had not to pick him up and throw him out a window. Instead, he smiled saccharinely and bowed his head.

“Of course, sir. Right away, sir.” Before he walked away to get the damned glass of champagne, he glanced at Fabio and saw an odd look in the other man’s eyes; mocking, yes, but with an almost knowing edge. Oh, that guy was just begging for an ass-kicking. Was it a race thing? Was he having fun bossing around the only brown waiter in the place? Or did he just generally enjoy flaunting his power over whoever he could? Regardless, Joe had to figure out a way to get the guy’s attention off him long enough to do the job he was really there to do. 

Rushing to the kitchen, he grabbed a tray full of freshy poured champagne glasses right out of the hands of a server. Ignoring the curses she spat, he made a beeline back to Fabio, presenting him and all the sycophants surrounding him with the tray of drinks. 

“ _Grazie mille_ ,” he simpered, handing out glasses to a few of his hangers-on. When the tray was emptied, Fabio firmly touched his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “ _Grazie._

“You’re very welcome, sir,” Joe said, barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes. “Is there anything else Sir requires?” Fabio’s eyes widened slightly as he held a hand up in front of his face to cover his sudden cough. Taking advantage of the other man’s inability to speak for the moment, Joe rushed off before he could ask him for anything else.

Okay. Time to get back on track. 

Keeping his eyes fixed on the kitchen, Joe focused on the security guy he could see in his peripherals. Walking diagonally towards the kitchen, he made sure to pass as close as possible to the guy while appearing to not realize how close he was, which, not to toot his own horn or anything, was not as easy as he knew he made it look.

Stumbling over nothing, Joe grabbed at the security guy, quickly unclipping his badge and slipping it into his pocket while the guy was distracted by the large silver drinks tray Joe shoved in his face. “I’m so sorry! Oh my god, I don’t know what just happened,” he said apologetically, looking around the floor. “Someone must have spilled a drink or something, I’ve gotta get a mop and clean this up before someone else slips and hurts themselves. Imagine the lawsuits!” 

Walking quickly towards the kitchen, he glanced behind to make sure the security guy wasn’t watching him and ducked into a cordoned off hallway that led to the elevators. The first three, he knew, were public elevators that stopped on every floor of Merrick Pharmaceuticals but the penthouse, which was reserved as the living quarters of Stephen Merrick himself. It was the last elevator, the slightly narrower set of doors all the way at the end, that was the private elevator that went straight to the top floor. Only those with security badges could use it, and only if they knew the passcode. Luckily, Joe had a little device he’d stolen from a fellow thief in preparation for this job, that would trick the system into thinking he input the correct code. Supposedly it was much faster than older gadgets that searched through the system to find the passcodes. Or something. Joe wasn’t a techie, and the guy he’d lifted it from had been wasted when he gloated about what it could do. 

Swiping they badge, Joe stepped inside the elevator and plugged the USB looking thingie into the keypad. In seconds, the elevator beeped in acceptance and the doors slid shut, starting Joe’s ascent. So far, everything was going according to plan, but it was no time to get cocky. Anything could still happen, and he needed to be on point until he was well on his way to the safehouse.

Peeking both ways before stepping off the elevator, Joe made his way quickly through the large, open concept apartment. God, this place was a nightmare; it was one giant box, rooms separated by glass (fucking glass!) partitions, not even a lousy column to break up the sheer openness of the place. At least finding the safe would be easy, he could see it all the way on the other side of the room. Of course, that meant anyone stepping off the elevator would be able to see him breaking into the safe and there was literally nowhere to hide, but Joe figured he’d cross that bridge if it walked in and started shooting.

It didn’t look like there were any hidden security measures, and Joe was already familiar enough with the security system Merrick used to be confident he wouldn’t trigger anything. Stepping soundlessly over the polished concrete floors, he crouched in front of the safe, taking a moment to admire it’s sleek lines and elegant craftsmanship. The Worthington 1000 was a beautiful piece of art; too bad they were just so damn easy to crack. Smirking, Joe pulled on a pair of cotton gloves and got to work.

The first thing he always did when cracking a safe was to use the try-out combinations. Every make and model of safe had it’s own set of combinations pre-installed for owners to use, it was amazing how often people never bothered to change the try-out combination, never really believing hey would ever be robbed. This was why, for Joe, recon was the most important part of his job. He needed to know exactly what kind of safe he would be working with so he would know which combinations to use when the time came. He had a lot of them memorized and could, if he had the time, dig around in his brain to recall the correct combinations, but it made his life so much easier when he knew what combinations he would need in advance. The Worthington 1000 had three try-out combinations that were randomly programmed into each safe before being shipped to the owners. Hopefully, Merrick had never changed it.

The first combination he tried was a bust, as was the second. Hoping against hope, Joe tried the third, grudgingly impressed that someone as arrogant as Merrick would have thought to change the combination. Generally, the more arrogant and full of themselves a mark was, the easier it was for Joe to rob them blind.

Hearing the tell-tale click he’d been hoping for, Joe shook his head. Rich guys, when would they learn? They made it almost too easy. Pulling down the lock and opening the safe, Joe scanned it’s contents for what he was looking for. Stacks and stack of cash in multiple currencies, tempting but no. Velvet bag of diamonds, knowing Merrick they were probably blood diamonds so hell fucking no. Where was- ah!

Pulling out a manila file, Joe skimmed over the documents inside, grinning at what he’d found. Oh, yes, these were exactly what he’d been looking for. Taking the documents out of the file and folding them, he put them carefully in his back pocket, securing it closed with the button he’d sewn on specifically for this purpose. Closing the safe and spinning the dial, he quickly made his way back to the elevator. In and out in just over five minutes and none of the security guys would even be suspicious. Hopping back on the elevator, he took off his gloves and wiped down the security badge, leaving no trace of fingerprints or anything else that could link him to the crime, if anyone ever even noticed there had been a crime. Now, all he had to do was get out of the building before anyone started to wonder where Carl the waiter had gone.

Stepping off the elevator, he walked confidently down the hall. The trick was to look like you knew where you were going and that you had to get there in a hurry. No one would look twice at someone who looked and acted like they belonged where they were. 

“Carl! There you are, my favorite waiter!” Closing his eyes in horror, Joe slowly turned around to see _goddamned fucking asshole_ Fabio walking unsteadily towards him. Fucking christ, now he had to deal with this drunken mess when he was so close, _so fucking close_ to freedom. “Where did you go, _prediletto_?”  
He reached Joe surprisingly quickly for how much he was stumbling, and practically slammed into him, pushing him up against the wall. They were pressed flush against each other from shoulders to thighs, and when Joe tried pushing him away, the other man leaned in close and captured his lips in an unexpected and surprisingly heated kiss. 

All of Joe’s higher brain functions cheerfully went offline at the first touch of Fabio’s tongue, the smooth slide of his plush lips, the sharp zing of pain as he nipped at Joe’s lips, sending a flare of heat down his belly and straight to his cock. His hands, flat against Fabio’s chest where he’d tried to push him away, slid up his neck and into that artfully tousled mane of hair, tugging firmly on the impossibly silky strands. The other man whimpered, the soft, breathy sound turning Joe’s knees to liquid as a big, strong hand skated down his side and gripped his ass, pushing his crotch up against Fabio’s surprisingly muscular thigh. Joe groaned, instinctively grinding against the other man, mind blanking on everything but the heat of the man in front of him.

And then it was over, Joe almost falling over now that he wasn’t being held up by Fabio’s firm, deliciously fit body. Blinking several times in succession, Joe’s brain struggled to make sense of what was going on. Fabio stood in front of him, a foot of space between them, breathing hard and staring at him with those intimidatingly penetrating eyes. Smirking, he blew Joe a kiss and sauntered down the hall and out of sight. Joe stared after him, mouth open and gasping for breath. What the fuck had just happened? How was it possible that the hottest interaction he’d had in… ever, had been with the slimy Italian douchebag? Where the hell had that come from? What had he even been doing in the hallway, the elevators were off limits to guests-

Holy shit. The elevators were off limits to guests. No, no, _no_. Frantically, he shoved his hands in his pockets, cursing himself for being so fucking careless. Empty. They were empty. The files, the badge, even his goddamned passcode device thingie were gone. Un-fucking-believable. He’d been pickpocketed. _Him_. How, how could he have let himself get distracted?

No, wait, there was something in his other back pocket, a small slip of paper. Furiously, he pulled it out and unfolded it.

“Carl,  
Thanks for getting those files for me, safecracking’s not really my thing. _Grazie mille!_  
-Nicky”

Crumpling up the paper in his fist, Joe took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Weeks of work, of recon, of planning, all gone to waste because he was weak for a beautiful pair of eyes. What a disgrace. 

Motherfucking Nicky. If he thought Joe would just sit back and let this slide, he was in for a very rude awakening. He’d be seeing the other man again, that was for sure. Smiling to himself, Joe straightened up his outfit and walked purposefully out of the building, already planning his payback.

He was gonna ruin this man's life.

**Author's Note:**

> Prediletto- favorite or darling  
> Grazie mille- thank you very much  
> Per favore- please
> 
> Yes, I used Google, so if it's incorrect, let me know!


End file.
